Feathers
by purrpickle
Summary: Santana, after realizing that voodoo dolls can be used for more than just punishment, takes gratuitous advantage of that fact. Shameless Pezberry, Brittberry, Brittana, and Berrittana, with Pezberry endgame.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **I don't own Glee nor any of the characters within. Anyway, I don't really know what this is. I got the idea about an hour after watching the season two finale (though this doesn't have any spoilers in it, not really, unless the existance of a voodoo doll is _really _a spoiler, and if so, I apologize), and sat down and wrote this. So yeah. I won't mark this as complete, but honestly, don't hold your breath for it to be updated quickly.

Last but not least, this is AU Pezberry.

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><p>Rachel was in the middle of Biology when what felt like a feather suddenly started stroking the back of her neck. Raising a hand to knock whatever it was off while trying not to freak out if it turned out to be a huge spider, her hand met nothing but her skin. Under her fingers, the feathery touches continued.<p>

Squirming because it was starting to get ticklish, Rachel pulled a hair tie from her backpack to sweep her hair from her neck, wondering if that would do the trick.

It did. Sort of. Instead of going away completely, the phantom feather circled around to her throat. Twitching and swallowing painful laughter, Rachel's mind raced to remember what she had for breakfast; if this was some kind of allergic reaction, then there would be something to make it go away, right?

As soon as she had verified that no, she had the same thing she always did, the tickling turned into the sensation that someone's fingers were tracing along her collarbone. Choking back a squeak, her instinctual surprised jerk attracted Mercedes' attention.

Leaning towards her, Mercedes lowered her voice, "You okay?"

Biting down on her lower lip, Rachel nodded. "Yes. Just a random muscle spasm. That's all. Happens when I don't get enough potassium. I'll make sure to eat a banana after class, and I'll be all good." As she gave her friend a quick smile, the fingers trailed down and started exploring the curves of her chest. Slamming her hand over her heart, hoping that would get the feelings to stop, she realized what that probably looked like to Mercedes. "Heartburn," she gritted out.

Mercedes raised an eyebrow, looking at her critically. "Girl, you're spazzing out, and your face is getting pretty red… You _sure _you're okay?"

As she opened her mouth to answer, the fingers slipped down. "Oh _goodness_," she gasped, jumping up. "Mr. Bolton," she babbled out, interrupting his lecture on photosynthesis, "I'm going to the bathroom." Not waiting for an answer, she bolted.

Power walking down the hallway in case there were any teachers around who could get mad at her for running, Rachel pushed open the door to the bathroom with a bang. A quick look around verifying that she was alone, she quickly stripped off her sweater. Staring down at her camisole, she pulled it away from her chest to see under it.

There was nothing there. Visually. Tactilely, there was something rolling and pinching her nipples. Moaning – because even if she was scared out of her mind, the purely physical side of her was awake and getting stimulated – Rachel dropped her hands to support herself on the sink in front of her.

What was_ happening?_

And then the fingers were gone. Panting a little and unwilling to move in case any action from her brought them back, Rachel only had a couple of seconds respite. She almost fell to her knees when the feeling of something hot and wet being painted up and down her chest and stomach appeared.

This surely wasn't an allergy. Was this… A stroke? She should probably go to the nurse. Sliding her hands over her abs, feeling nothing but her warm skin under her palms but hot liquid evaporating off her skin, Rachel started to tremble. She was going insane. If this wasn't a stroke, she was spiraling into deep insanity.

And then the heat slipped under the hem of her skirt. Letting out a shameless needy noise, she stumbled backwards. Her back smacking into the wall, she could barely stay standing. Shaking with her fingernails digging into the cool tile behind her, Rachel clenched her jaw to stop her moans from escaping her throat. Heat was building in her body, the odd mixture of dryness and wetness bathing her skin in true sweat. If this was a stroke, why the heck _was it turning her on so much_?

The warmth was getting bolder, going from barely skimming along the top of her underwear to running down the insides of her thighs. Never touching the area that was beginning to pulse, Rachel could only pointlessly follow the touches with her hand, sucking in deep breaths through her nose that forced her to pant them out her mouth. She _had _to be insane. That was the only explanation, because there was _no _way an invisible… Entity …Was making love to her.

As that thought left her, everything suddenly stopped. Completely. Almost crying from the lack of stimulation, Rachel sagged against the wall. What… What was that? Was it coming back with something _worse_? Laying her head back and staring up at the ceiling as she tried to catch her breath, she looked down when the door to the bathroom swung open, and launched herself away from the wall.

Slamming into Santana, who had barely gotten the door open, she got as much of her shirt in her hands as she could, yanking her inside. Spinning the two of them around, she shoved Santana into the nearest stall. Not bothering to lock the door, she grabbed the other girl's head, crashing their mouths together.

Santana's lips opened under hers, and her arms came up to wrap around Rachel's sides. "Damn, Berry," she muttered when her tongue wasn't in Rachel's mouth and Rachel's tongue wasn't in hers, "We've got to stop meeting like this. I'm beginning to think you _like_ me."

Santana was talking too much. Making sure the toilet seat was closed, Rachel urged her back and down, dropped into her lap, grabbed one of her hands, and pushed it under her skirt. Shifting so she could grind into her palm, almost exploding with the first touch, she leaned forward. Nipping Santana's lower lip, she whispered raggedly, "As with the others, as long as you stay on the outside of the underwear, you can do anything you want."

Already dark eyes darkened even more, and Santana smirked. "This is where I say you're lucky I don't actually have to go to the bathroom."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Someone brought up a good point that I should warn that this is technically non-con/dub-con, which I was/am still going to address later on in the fic. I just forgot to disclaim that, initially.

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><p>Instead of listening to her English teacher extolling the virtues of <em>Catcher in the Rye<em>, Santana was smirking evilly to herself as she wrote her list of what and how she could play with Rachel next. Brittany, leaning over her shoulder to read along, kept on giggling and whispering ideas of her own. Though Santana vetoed the use of peanut butter, Brittany's idea of massage oils was _genius_.

It had been three days since her bathroom rendezvous with Rachel, and though the other two non-voodoo inspired trysts that had come before had been no less pleasurable, the second Santana had touched her underwear, Rachel had completely come undone. So wet and hot that her fingers had easily slid back and forth, drawing out the sexiest moans Santana had ever heard, it should have been embarrassing how fast Rachel had orgasmed.

But it hadn't been. It had been the hottest thing Santana had ever seen. So much so that Rachel had only had to barely brush against Santana's clit for Santana to scream out her own orgasm that Rachel swallowed with her mouth. Another thing on Santana's list of sexiest things _ever_.

Fuck yeah, Rachel was amazing. Fucking spectacular.

Only problem was, Santana wanted to physically _touch_ her. None of that over-the-clothing shit. She'd gotten close to sucking the smaller girl's nipple into her mouth the first time, when she'd managed to lure Rachel into the janitor's closet, but that stunt had almost put a stop to the whole thing. Thankfully, Santana was talented enough with her tongue and Rachel's mouth was delicious enough that she didn't mind kissing her for ever, that she'd managed to get Rachel clinging to her while she bucked into her hand violently five minutes later. That was also when Santana realized that Rachel was a biter; _damn_, that bruise had taken forever to heal!

Again: hot.

Realizing that she had written _grope her_ at least three times on her list under various different headings, Santana made to go erase some of them… But thought better of it. Though fondling a little Rachel Berry voodoo doll wasn't the most stimulating thing to do, what it gave her, when she orchestrated it correctly, was definitely worth it. _Fucking _worth it, if she didn't mind making a horrible pun.

"When are you going to play with her again?" Brittany whispered, curled strands of her hair tickling Santana's cheek.

Santana smiled, reaching up to affectionately tuck the flyaway behind the blonde's ear. "I'm not sure yet," she dropped her hand and started tapping her fingers on the paper, "Though I think it'll be soon. I's gots to get me some Berry."

"Can I join in this time? Now that I'm not dating Artie, I want some sweet lady kisses with Rachel, too." Brittany bumped their shoulders together, pouting cutely.

Santana licked her lips, eyes dilating. Fuck, that had just rocketed up to take the top spot on her list of the most _arousing_ things ever. Before she answered, however, she realized that from his spot at the handicapped desk, Wheels McCripple Pants was watching the two of them with a completely morose expression on his face. Smirking maliciously, Santana shifted closer and leaned in, and, making sure he was still watching, pressed her lips directly against Brittany's ear, for all intents and purposes making a lover's gesture, "I wouldn't want to just spring you and me on her yet, but give me some time, and I'll see what I can do."

Brittany's shoulders fell a little, but then she perked up. "Can I go after her as just me?"

"I don't know why you're asking me," Santana answered, sitting back in her chair, "I don't have a claim on her."

"You don't?"

Santana blinked. "What?"

Brittany shrugged, grabbing one of Santana's hands to link their pinkies together, "San, you like her."

"Uh, yeah." Santana looked around and lowered her voice even more, "To _fuck_."

"Okay, sure. Are you going to play with her in glee today?"

A little thrown by the sudden change in topic, Santana allowed it to pass without comment; for some reason, she hadn't liked the direction that conversation had been heading in. "You know," she picked up her pencil with her free hand, tapping the eraser against her chin, "That sounds like a totally bad ass idea."

And it totally fucking did. They were supposed to be working on what they were going to do for the end of the year recital, and Santana just _knew _Rachel would be all up in their business, squawking on and on about singing a duet with Finn while also campaigning for the finale as well. God, the girl could fuck, but that didn't mean she didn't still annoy the hell out of Santana most of the time; even _if_ she'd mellowed a little since rejecting Finn after Nationals.

Which, legit, _only_ made Santana happy because that meant it had been easier to seduce Rachel in the first place.

Quickly getting lost in planning how she was going to drive Rachel crazy that afternoon with the end result of Rachel's fingernails biting into her shoulders as she writhed against her, begging for release, Santana could only squeeze her thighs together in a poor attempt at giving herself some relief. _Fuck_. She could _not _wait.

It wasn't until she was in the middle of trying to figure out how she could smuggle ice cubes into the choir room without being discovered that she realized, somewhere along the way, her initial game of seduction had turned into a fucking hot addiction.

And, yeah. At this point in time, Santana was abso-fuckin'-lutely okay with that.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **Now with Brittany!

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><p>The entity was back.<p>

It had started the second Mr. Schuester had swept into the room, grinning excitedly about their upcoming recital. Rachel had sat up straight, squaring her shoulders and opening her mouth, ready to start taking charge of the discussion. As soon as the first words came out, something stroked her arm.

Not wanting to immediately assume that it was at the very least a cousin to what had played with her three days ago, she'd tried to shrug it off and continue with her intricately planned proposal. Only, things quickly got more involved.

"Mr. Schuester," she began smartly, ignoring the groans coming from the rest of the class, "I know we've often gone with the tried and true program of solo, duet, and ensemble, but I believe that for the last recital of this… Let's say eventful, year, we should – " The stroking circled around her arm and shoulder, dipping down to run teasing fingers along her ribs. Swallowing an uncomfortable laugh, she cleared her throat and tried again, "Uhm, I'm sorry, where was I?"

"Somewhere far enough along that I wanted to _punch_ you," Quinn offered before turning to Mr. Schuester, "Mr. Schuester, I vote that we don't even _have _a recital."

"Yeah, it's lame," Puck chimed in.

"And we have finals," Mike piped up, "If I don't do well, I'm going to have to go to Asian cram school for the summer. And if that happens, my mom would _never_ forgive me." Mirroring his frown, Tina reached out and comfortingly lay her hand on his arm, "It's okay. I wouldn't think less of you."

He gave her a small smile. "Thank you. …But you're not my mom."

"No, _that _wouldn't be creepy," Santana spoke up, rolling her eyes.

Almost as if it was interested in hearing what everyone had to say, the entity had paused, now hovering just above her hipbone. Taking advantage of the calm to settle herself as much as she could, Rachel licked her lips and spoke up again, "No, guys, if you hear me out, I think you'll be pleasantly surprised."

"Yeah, you shutting up _would _be surprising," Quinn interrupted again, but Rachel's responding glare was broken when something wet and extremely cold was pressed directly above the waistband of her underwear. Gasping, she jolted, barely biting back a whimper when it slipped underneath.

"Rachel?" Brittany leaned over, "Are you okay?"

Rachel swallowed. "I, yes. It just got a little cold in here."

"You want my hat?"

Glancing up at the lumberjack hat the blonde was sporting, Rachel managed a smile, "No thank you, Brittany, but that was kind of you to offer." What she had quickly deduced was most like an ice cube slid even lower.

"Okay." Brittany smiled, then scooted her chair closer to Rachel; as if in answer, the entity paused again. Deciding to take a chance, Rachel quickly scooted her chair closer to the blonde. She didn't care what it looked like. If being close to Brittany allowed her the ability to thwart the teasing, then she'd even sit on her lap if she had to.

But apparently the entity didn't like that, or something set it off. The ice snapping away, a hand suddenly pressed into her belly, sharp fingernails starting to scratch their way down. Oh god. Was the entity going to go even farther than _before_? The pressure solidifying into just one finger again, Rachel got her answer.

For the first time, she felt the sensation of someone other than herself touching her under her underwear. Santana had stroked her off three times, and though that had been _amazing_, it still had been _over _her underwear. This was new. Painfully, achingly, and arousingly new. Slowly and slightly clumsily, the entity pushed down directly on her mons, stimulating the nerve endings. Her eyes almost rolled up in the back of her head.

"Guys, guys, we're doing a recital, and that's _it_. I'll be sure to give you enough time to study and prepare for your finals, but you can think of this recital as your _glee_ final. I'll be happy to hear your input for ideas, but first, let's hear what Rachel has to say."

Rachel could barely concentrate on anything other than the finger pressing up and down. Firm and teasing, suddenly disappearing to be followed a moment later with the dripping, freezing ice, she didn't know what to expect at any moment. Rachel whimpered. Her hands knuckled on the chair, and when Mr. Schuester turned his attention back to her, Rachel could only stare at him. If she could move, she needed to get out of there.

"…Rachel?" Mr. Schuester furrowed his brow. He lowered the dry erase pen he held in his hand and gave her a curious look. "You said you had some ideas for our recital?"

Rachel's eyes fluttered, barely holding back a squeak when the finger came back with a partner. "Uhm, yes, Mr. Schue," her voice wavered, "I do. In fact I even – " She swallowed, hoping the sheen of sweat she felt on her face wasn't noticeable, "Uhm, wro-wrote it down." She scrambled for her backpack and almost tossed her notebook at Mr. Schuester when he walked forward to take it from her, "Page 35, red tab."

"Are you _sure_ you're only a _little_ cold?" Brittany interrupted, swiveling her body to more face Rachel, her knee brushing against Rachel's; Rachel gasped, not for the first time aware of just how sexy Brittany really _was_. Normally, she was able to ignore it, as she could with Santana, but not when _something _was doing foreplay on her in the middle of glee. Brittany moved in closer, brow furrowing with concern, "Your cheeks are getting red."

The fingers stopped, then started up a soft, insistent massage right above somewhere Rachel _really _needed to pay attention to. She was wet, she was turned on, and her mind had strayed so far from being scared of what was happening to her to trying to figure out some way to fulfill whatever it was it wanted from her, which, honestly, seemed to be turning her on until she couldn't stand it.

There was no way Rachel could hope to pay attention to glee or the recital if the entity didn't stop. And, mind scrabbling back to the last time it had appeared, maybe it went away when someone got her or was about to get her… She blushed; off? Even if that sounded absurd or like wishful thinking, it wouldn't hurt to try, right?

Rachel licked her lips. Her gaze dropped from Brittany's eyes to her lips to her hands curled loosely on her knees.

…Brittany was single now, wasn't she? And it wasn't like Rachel wasn't aware that Brittany was attracted to her, because she knew for a fact that the taller girl was. But perhaps, more importantly, it wouldn't look odd to disappear somewhere off with her, as she was already showing concern for her. It certainly would be easier than turning around and trying to think of some reason why Santana should go with her.

Mr. Schuester was flipping through her notebook, the rest of the glee kids were commiserating with each other, the entity was _still _massaging her, keeping her on edge, and Brittany smiled at her. It was the smile that did it.

Rachel jumped up, managing to stop herself from stumbling due to the weakness in her knees. "You know," she babbled, "I _am _feeling cold. Come with me to my locker to grab my jacket? Great. Thanks. Mr. Schuester, we'll be back!" Grabbing Brittany's hand, Rachel tugged her out of her chair, ignored Mr. Schuester's protest, tried not to look at Santana, and ushered Brittany out of the choir room.

"Uhm… Rachel…?" Brittany looked at her curiously, happily lacing their hands together, "You're already wearing your jacket."

Rachel blanched but continued towards the nearest bathroom. "I don't care," she panted, groaning at the trembling starting up through her body; Brittany had to catch her before she fell to the ground as just as suddenly the entity had appeared, it just as suddenly disappeared. "Oh wow," Brittany murmured, sweeping her up into her arms before she could protest, "You are _so _turned on. Bathroom?"

Rachel nodded. "I… I hope you don't mind."

"Of course not!" Smiling broadly, Brittany pushed the door open with her shoulder, then headed towards the nearest empty stall, "Santana said I could share."

Santana said she could share? Before she could ask about that statement, Brittany had set her down, dropped onto the closed toilet seat, pulled her forward to stand above her, and pushed Rachel's skirt up. "Over underwear, right?" she asked, then leaned forward, turning Rachel's answer into a long, drawn out moan.

Oh _god_. Rachel threw back her head, bucking into Brittany's mouth, the blonde's breath hot and moist through the fabric of her boy shorts. Though that act flirted with the edge of the rules Rachel had set for herself and her sexual escapades, she wasn't going to _stop_ Brittany. Especially when she'd let Santana do it. Then, it had blown her mind, and now, from what she could feel, Brittany was on her way to doing just that as well.

If… If Brittany was this good, and Santana was as good as she was, then what would the _both_ of them _together _be like? In the back of her mind, Rachel had to wonder if _that _was what the entity wanted. And if it was… Was it bad that Rachel had just realized she wanted that too?


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **Now with plot!

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><p>Curled up on Brittany's lap, head resting on her chest and feeling sleepy and sated and warmed by the gentle stroking the blonde was doing to her back and side, Rachel sighed. "You're <em>really <em>good at that…"

A pleased giggle moving through her body, Brittany settled her chin onto Rachel's head. "Wait until I get you in a bed," she smiled, then paused. "Wait…" pulling back and urging Rachel's head up to look at her, she asked hopefully, "Will we get to do this again?"

A blush raced across Rachel's face, and she sucked her lower lip into her mouth. "I… I think I'd like that." When Brittany smiled widely, Rachel looked away and lowered her voice, "Then I could, you know… Reciprocate. Re… Mmm…" She licked her lips, "Pay you."

"Pay me?" Sounding a little puzzled, Brittany's hand stopped stroking her. "Like, give me money for sex?"

"Oh, no Brittany. _No_." Bringing Brittany's head to her by cupping the side of her face, Rachel softly pressed a kiss to her lips. "I'm sorry. No. I meant return the favor. _Re_. _Re_pay you. Give _you _an orgasm." She didn't want the girl feeling like she was going to treat her like a prostitute. Certainly not.

Kissing her back, Brittany smiled. "Oh, okay. I understand. That's really sweet of you, Rachel. But don't worry. Santana will take care of me after glee."

Rachel's eyebrows rose. "So you two are back together…?"

Grinning, Brittany nodded, "Oh yeah. We're together. Just not right now, now that I'm here with you."

Alarm flared up, and Rachel stared at her. "B-because you're here with me I've made you _cheat on Santana_? She's going to _break up with you_?" She jumped off Brittany's lap, slapping her palm against the stall door to stop from crashing into it.

"What…?" Standing, Brittany settled her hands on Rachel's shoulders, pressing down enough to get Rachel to calm; when she did, the blonde smiled. "Rachel," she started, leaning down to kiss her cheek, "If I were dating Santana – like, _dating_-dating her – would I be doing this with you? Would Santana _let _me do this with you? No, because our plumbings are the same." She paused, "Well, she would if she could join in or watch. I know _that_ for a fact."

Rachel swallowed.

"And anyway, Santana doesn't want to _date-_date me anymore. She's in love with someone else." Brittany sighed, smile dimming a little.

Putting her hand out, Rachel squeezed Brittany's arm, "Brittany…"

Her eyes flitting back to Rachel's, Brittany shook her head. "You know, when you're not talking, you're really nice," she complimented cluelessly, and Rachel fought to keep her expression positive, "But anyway, I understand. I love Santana, and I could easily _love _her, but sometimes I feel like I missed my chance. But." Brittany's face fell, and she removed one of her hands to wipe a suddenly misty eye, "I really _did _love Artie, and I couldn't _hurt _him." Chewing on her lower lip, she sighed and dropped her shoulders. "Why didn't… Why couldn't Santana _understand_ that?"

Rachel frowned. "You… Really haven't had anyone to talk about him with, have you?"

Looking down, Brittany shook her head again.

Rachel's heart squeezed. Sighing, she smiled softly, stroking Brittany's arm before sliding and moving in to wrap her arms around her waist. "If you want," she whispered, nodding when still misty blue eyes met hers, "I can provide some impartial company." When Brittany still looked unsure, Rachel rubbed her hands up and down her back, "And cookies, if you'd like."

"Cookies!" Cracking a smile, Brittany leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to Rachel's mouth. Breathing in quickly through her nose at the slight taste of herself when the blonde slid her lips along hers, Rachel closed her eyes. "What… Time is it?" she whispered, and Brittany laughed.

"San hasn't texted yet, so we're fine. Here." Pulling her lumberjack hat off and running a hand through her hair to tame it, Brittany smiled and pushed it onto Rachel's head.

"Britt…?"

Brittany grinned, then leaned forward to unlock the stall door. "So Mr. Schuester can't yell at us," she explained, giggling as Rachel lifted her hands to touch and explore the hat, "Now come on, before San _does _text us."

Allowing the slight pressure of Brittany taking a step forward push her outside of the stall, Rachel turned to look at herself in the mirror. Studying her reflection, she removed the hat, shaking out her hair and straightening her bangs before pulling it on again. It felt warm and heavy on her head, as well as looked slightly ridiculous as all of Brittany's hats did, but Rachel knew it _did _make sense for her to be wearing it.

Though, you know, the entity probably wasn't going to be interested in using ice on her _head_.

Rachel stilled, holding her breath. Would _thinking _about the entity call it up from whatever pocket of the universe it lived in? No… That didn't really make sense. The last time it had appeared (really, the _first _– Rachel could say that now, though she really would have rather not been able to) was three days ago, so maybe she was safe for another three…?

Oh god. Now she was thinking about it as an inevitability. What was happening to her? Was she ever going to find out?

Please not now, please not now, she whispered silently; even if knowledge was good, Rachel really _did _need to get back to glee before Mr. Schuester vetoed her idea just because of her absence!

Thankfully, no matter the routes her thoughts were going, the entity lay dormant. Sighing, Rachel relaxed. Moving her gaze over to watch Brittany stare at herself in the mirror as she washed her hands, Rachel bit her lip as her gaze moved up and down Brittany's body.

Brittany.

And Santana.

Santana. It wasn't like Rachel and Santana were in a relationship (her _or _Brittany, it seemed), but, would Santana _really_ be okay with what had just happened? And… Should Rachel even be _concerned _about that? Though she wasn't quite sure what _it _was, her relationship with Santana, Rachel knew Santana could be quite possessive. But did that apply to Rachel? Or just Brittany? Would Santana (and here, Rachel didn't even know if she should even be wondering this in the first place – it wasn't like she and Santana were _dating_, no matter how… _Loose_ that made Rachel sound) care that Rachel was… _Being _with someone else? Or care that it was _Brittany _she had, well, not really _chosen_, but _accepted_? Sure, Brittany had said her best friend would be okay with it (hadn't she even said Santana had said she could share?), but was that Brittany's eternal optimism speaking? Did Rachel have to fear for her life? Expect to get a Lima Heights Adjacent rant? Or get the threesome invitation Brittany had mentioned?

Awareness she wasn't sure she wanted started to coil in her stomach. Thinking about a threesome while in the middle of receiving oral sex was one thing, but thinking about one while _not _influenced by all the forces of a growing orgasm was another.

"Rache? You okay?" Echoing her words from earlier, Brittany's voice snapped Rachel from her thoughts.

Blinking, Rachel met Brittany's gaze and smiled. "Yes, Brittany, I'm alright. Just… Thinking about something."

"Mmhm." Looking a little suspicious, Brittany nodded, and turned back to grab a couple of paper towels. "You ready to go?" she asked perkily.

"Almost, but not quite. I wish to wash my hands as well." Sliding her gaze from Brittany to her reflection, Rachel nodded and stepped forward, pumping two good shots of pink soap into her palm. First things first. Wash her hands, then have Brittany escort her back to the choir room. _Then _decide if she should leave before Santana could catch her or stay to catch Santana herself.

But that really depended on figuring out how much she and Santana owed each other, didn't it?

Rachel sighed. She _really _had not wanted to have this discussion with herself any time soon.


End file.
